


Shotgun Proposal

by EllanaSan



Series: Have a Drink Sweetheart (Hayffie Prompts/one shots collection) [37]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Established, F/M, effie never laughed that hard in her life, haymitch is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24838456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: Was she assuming that because they were buying a house they were getting married too?
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Series: Have a Drink Sweetheart (Hayffie Prompts/one shots collection) [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/71774
Comments: 14
Kudos: 142





	Shotgun Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _➼ I ask you to come look at houses with me and the real estate agent just gave a very convincing speech as to why this backyard would be a great place for a wedding_
> 
> I’ve been craving a good silly modern au lately so here you go. The list the prompt came from is reblogged on the-hayffie-penthouse blog so feel free to go check it out if you want ideas or lists. This is obviously crack. Haymitch is not having a good week in terms of proposals so, you know, cut him some slack ;)

Haymitch thought he hated shopping but he was quickly realizing that there was worse than being dragged from shop to shop by a manic woman whose whole life was fashion.

There was house shopping and being dragged from one house to another by a real estate agent _determined_ to make a sell by the end of the week.

This house was the fifth house they had visited in three days and, while Haymitch was overwhelmed by all the talks of prices and floorboards and what not, Effie was in full swing, asking about closet spaces and the like.

He didn’t really care about closet spaces – and yet it was a big necessary make-it-or-break-it point for her – so he wandered on his own to explore. The house was empty, which didn’t really help him imagine them living there, but he sort of liked the volumes. From all the houses they had visited in the last couple of months, this one might have been his favorite so far.

Ultimately, it wouldn’t be his decision though. If it had been, he would have agreed to buy the first one they had seen two months earlier – or maybe the second one because Effie was right and the first one didn’t have enough land around it to make it appealing.

When he had suggested Effie should live with him over a year ago, after one too many drinks, he had meant she should move into his house. And they had done that for a while but it wasn’t working out. They had broken up over it, gotten back together like they always did, broken up again when it had gotten serious once more and then finally caved to the knowledge – and the children’s numerous exasperated interventions – that they weren’t happy when they weren’t together.

Her house was modern and soulless and with far too many bay windows, he hated it and refused to live there.

His house was old, in bad shape from lack of maintenance and felt oppressive – _and_ the water pressure wasn’t great, the backyard was a decent size but you could still see the neighbor’s house and rats were regular visitors. She hated living there.

Buying a house together, moving together, getting a fresh start had seemed like a great idea before they _actually_ started looking.

Effie had more money than he did, though he was comfortable enough to be able afford something decent, and she had a list of what their future house should be like. Mostly, it needed to be big enough that they could host the kids if needed, which meant at least two bedrooms on addition to the master; she wanted a home office for herself and, while optional, had pointed out it would be good to have a small drawing room for him where he could keep his numerous bookshelves and have a spot that would be just his; she wanted an actual property, not just a house in town, but a house with enough land that they didn’t have to worry about anyone spying on them – and he agreed to that not only because he liked his privacy but because she was famous enough that it was a legitimate concern. She also wanted it to be _homey_ , whatever _that_ meant.

To that already specific list that had made the real estate agent wince, he had added his own requests although he didn’t think they were crazy. He didn’t want a modern house – none of those cubic glass mansions with infinity pools that _she_ liked – he didn’t want something ancient either but a good traditional build was his preference, he didn’t want the house to be so big they wouldn’t be able to find each other in it and he wanted a decent kitchen because when he was in a good mood – and if Effie and the kids begged enough – he liked to cook.

The kitchen in this very house was actually great.

There was an island, the appliances weren’t brand new but, from what he could see, they were quality and he liked the view from the kitchen window.

He liked the house, full point. It was a little further away from town than they were hoping for but it was a concession he was ready to make for something like this. It had a wrap-around porch that had caught his eye before they were even parked. The only flaw he had found so far was the obvious repairs the roof would need but that was a small easily fixed problem. 

“Here you are.” Effie was grinning ear to ear, the sound of her heels clicking on the white tiles announcing her arrival in the empty kitchen. “Have you seen the deck?”

He followed her out of the kitchen and through the dining-room he was pretty sure she would want to use for dinner parties with Portia and the rest of her friends – and it was probably telling he could _see_ them having dinner parties there – and through the sliding doors that led onto a small deck where the real estate agent was waiting.

The view was breathtaking.

You could see the woods, the mountains in the distance and nothing but the cloudy blue sky for miles. The property itself stopped at the edge of the woods but there was a lake not too far and it would be great for strolls and hikes.

“Katniss would love it here.” he said before he could stop himself.

The real estate agent suppressed a smile that probably meant she thought she had bagged it.

“She wouldn’t, wouldn’t she?” Effie beamed. “And look at this yard… You could relocate your birds easily enough. I bet they would be happier here too. You could even expand their pen a little…”

The geese would thrive in that place, that was for sure. It was as much nature as you were going to get nowadays, much better than his suburban house.

“It is a great yard, isn’t it?” the woman jumped in with a bright smile for Effie. “Look at that background… It would be ideal for pictures.”

“Yes, it would.” Effie nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect.”

Haymitch discreetly rolled his eyes and walked closer to the wooden railing, admiring the view the two women were only studying with _Instagram_ in mind. Not that he could really complain. That was Effie’s job – although he still didn’t get how it could _be_ a job but, apparently, there was a small leap from former model to influencer and she had taken it years ago. That meant she was constantly taking pictures and shooting videos – although rarely of them together, his being dragged to the public eye again was part of dating her but their couple life was private and she fought to keep it that way.

“The current owner used to rent the place as a wedding venue.” the agent said. “Can you imagine getting married here? It would be gorgeous.”

“Oh, yes, I can see that…” Effie sighed dreamily. “In fact… Well, there _is_ a wedding in our near future and I have to confess I was just thinking this would be the _perfect_ spot to host it. So gorgeous…”

Haymitch suddenly tensed but didn’t dare turn around to look at the two women who were still chatting.

“It _really_ would be.” the agent encouraged. “I mean, the house is _perfect_ for a young couple with a soon-to-be family but that yard… If you put a dais there…”

Haymitch didn’t know where the woman was pointing and he didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to hear all about caterers and balloons and dance floors or tents and DJs, his heart was racing in his chest and he quickly retreated inside, touring the house once more to calm himself.

_Wedding?_

_Soon-to-be family?_

That last part was off the table for real. They had discussed it early enough in their relationship, after they had been more or less forced to confront the fact they weren’t so casual anymore. Babies were definitely _not_ in their future. They had the kids – and between Katniss, Prim, Peeta, Finnick, Annie and Jo, that was _a lot_ of adopted people to keep an eye on – and Effie had medical issues that would make it really complicated for them to have one of their own and there was also the fact Haymitch _really_ didn’t want one. She had agreed. They were on agreement. She _wouldn’t_ go back on that. He trusted her on that front.

But _a wedding_?

He had told her he wasn’t the marrying kind years earlier, when they had still been in the _no strings attached_ part of their affair.

But he had also told her he wasn’t the dating kind and he had ended up dating her anyway.

He had _also_ told her he wasn’t the settling kind and he had asked her to move in.

Was she assuming that because they were buying a house they were getting married too?

He felt very trapped suddenly, in no small part because the more he walked through the upstairs rooms the more he _wanted_ the _fucking_ house.

Maybe he was a little angry too.

He was playing with his phone, toying with the idea of calling Chaff to rant – and panic – when Effie called his name from downstairs. He made his way down the stairs, noting that some of the steps creaked under his weight – which only made him like the house that much better because for some dumb reason creaking steps made it feel like a real house to him – right in time to see her shake the real estate agent’s hand.

“It won’t stay on the market for long. If you’re interested, call me soon.” the woman warned as she walked them back out and locked the house.

They watched her get in her car and drive away but lingered a little on the property.

“What do you think?” Effie asked, almost bouncing in excitement. “I _love_ it.”

“Yeah.” he muttered, his grumpiness fading a little faced with her enthusiasm. _Fuck_ , but this woman was making him soft. When she beamed and smiled like she was currently doing, he felt something melt inside him and, unsurprisingly, his lips stretched into a smirk. “We’re gonna need to add some fencing though. And a gate near the road.”

“Details.” she dismissed, waving her hand. She turned back to look at the house with her hands on her hips, biting down on her bottom lip. “I can see us being _so_ happy here…” She whirled around and tossed her arms around his neck. He grabbed her waist by reflex, too used by now to her theatrics to even bat an eyelash. “You agree, then? This is _the one_? We _are_ buying it?”

What could he say when she was so happy?

He would have fought an army to keep her that way so he shrugged, faking a detachment that didn’t match the fondness on his face. “We’re buying it.”

She let out an excited squeak and then planted a kiss on his mouth. “I will call her back as soon as we are home.” She tugged him back toward her sport car and he let himself be led. He wasn’t sure when he had become that person who was so happy to follow her lead as long as she kept smiling and looking at him like that. He didn’t know. He used to be a grumpy loner who didn’t need anything or anyone and couldn’t care less about other people’s mood. “I cannot wait to tell the children. And that yard!”

Haymitch climbed in the car and buckled the seat belt, feeling his stomach churn at the mention of the yard and what it would be perfect for.

“The wedding yard…” he tried to joke but it came out a little strangled.

“Oh, _yes_.” She put the car in gear and he grabbed the edge of the seat because Effie and open country roads didn’t go well together. He trusted her implicitly behind a wheel – she was the best driver he knew – but she loved speed a little too much sometimes. “Don’t you think it will be lovely? How lucky we haven’t booked a venue yet… Oh, this is _really_ perfect. I know exactly how to make it look great… And, you know, the wedding pictures _will_ really be gorgeous with that landscape…”

He swallowed hard and let her maneuver out of the narrow dirt lane that led to the house, waiting until they were back on the concrete road that led to town to speak. “Seems like you thought of everything already…”

“I _cannot_ wait to tell the children.” she repeated, smiling so hard it must have hurt. “I will need to rethink the dress though… The one I had my eyes on won’t work with the color scheme I’m thinking of. Because the tents will have to be white, you know, but I’m thinking red roses everywhere…”

“Cause you’ve already been looking at dresses?” he asked, still sounding strangled to his own ears.

She glanced at him, a bit amused. “Have you met me? When am I _not_ looking at dresses, Haymitch? I already told Cinna you will need a tux, by the way.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not sure what to answer that. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

He wanted to be angry, he really wanted to, but mostly he was panicking.

When had he given her the impression that he was proposing? _When_? And how would she react when he told her she got it wrong? Because now that they had found their perfect house, he really wanted it, wedding yard or not, and, above all, he didn’t want to go through another couple of months of being broken up with her because it was painful and he drank too much when that happened and he missed her so _fucking_ badly it was a physical ache in his _fucking_ chest…

He didn’t want her to dump his sorry ass because there was always the distinctive possibility she wouldn’t come back this time – she was younger and successful and famous and drop dead gorgeous and he was… He was a bitter sarcastic asshole with an occasional drinking problem who was also commitment phobic and had never found a woman he wanted to keep as badly as he did her.

And she would _definitely_ dump his sorry ass if he told her there would be no wedding…

So now the question was: was he more scared of her leaving him than her putting a ring on his finger?

And, all in all, it was a terribly _easy_ question.

The last break-up hadn’t lasted more than two months but it had been terrible and, truthfully, even if the children hadn’t conspired to get them together in the same room, he would have probably gone crawling at her door before long. He had missed her like he hadn’t thought it was possible to miss someone.

With them, break-ups usually meant they still stayed in touch, argued and _fucked_ when the fighting got to a certain point but this time she had completely cut him out and _that_ … He hadn’t been able to _bear_ it. No contact, calls immediately going to voicemail, no seeing each other, no touching…

When they had finally caved and fallen back together, she had warned him she was at the end of her rope, that she couldn’t do this back-and-forth anymore, that either they stayed together or they broke up for good because she was ready to settle and, while it was alright if _he_ wasn’t, she couldn’t keep getting invested and getting her heart bruised for nothing.

And he had agreed and told her they could do this long term and, for the most part, they had been doing okay, the house hunting notwithstanding.

He didn’t want to lose her again.

Not over a stupid thing like a wedding.

If she wanted a wedding…

What did he care? They had been on and off for more than a decade, they shared kids, they were living together, they were buying a house together, they were talking about getting a dog… In all the practical ways, they were already married, weren’t they? And… And…

_Sure_ , he hated the thought of a big party and church and everything she would probably insist on but… If she wanted a whole day of being the center of attention in a princess dress… Couldn’t he give her that? He had certainly put her through enough _shit_ by pushing her away every time they got a little too close over the years.

“When…” He cleared his throat, studying her profile while she stared at the road ahead, entirely relaxed despite the fact she was well over the speed limit. “When are we doing it?”

Because if she had been looking at dresses, she probably already had a schedule drawn.

“They haven’t picked a date yet.” she hummed. “But I am thinking spring would be _ideal_.”

“Spring…” he repeated, feeling dumb and a bit numb. Spring wasn’t that far away. Not much time to get used to the idea.

“I know it’s soon but it’s doable, I think.” She shrugged. “And I am confident we can have the house ready well before then.”

“Sure.” His mouth was parched and he regretted leaving his flask at home. Then he frowned. “Wait, who’s _they_?”

She frowned too and chanced a glance at him, easing a little on the gas pedal. “I’m sorry?”

“You said _they_ haven’t picked a date yet. Who?” he insisted.

Because if that was her parents… He _hated_ her parents and that was _entirely_ mutual. It would be just like them to insist on picking her big date to make it work with _their_ schedule and then not show up at the last minute just out of spite.

“The children, of course.” she answered, slowing down even more so she could divide her attention between the road and him. She looked a little concerned. “Are you feeling alright? You look a bit… _pale_.”

Was he feeling alright when he had so unceremoniously informed he was getting married in spring? Was she kidding?

“The kids? _Our_ kids?” he clarified.

“Well, yes…” She didn’t seem to understand why he sounded so surprised.

“Why are the kids choosing our wedding date, sweetheart?” he asked, completely dumbfounded.

The car swerved alarmingly toward the other side of the road. It was thankfully deserted and she immediately went back to the correct lane but her eyes were wide and she was staring at him more than she was staring at the road. “ _Our what_?”

“Our wedding date…” he hesitated, now very unsure.

She wasn’t paying any attention to the road anymore and she seemed to remember only belatedly she was behind the wheel of a sport car that wouldn’t survive well to an accident because she forced her eyes back straight ahead. Her tone was detached but he could hear the nervousness underneath. “I wasn’t aware we were getting married…”

“Well, me neither!” he scoffed. “But you said… You told that woman that we had a wedding ahead and…”

The sound that escaped her throat wasn’t one he had ever heard her make before. She cleared her throat immediately after but it was plain to see she was fighting to swallow back her chuckles. “Yes. And we _do_. The children’s wedding. You know… The same children who told us they were engaged last week. _Katniss and Peeta’s wedding._ ”

Again, he opened and closed his mouth like a gold fish in dire need of air.

“Right.” he eventually managed to say. Because of course she had been talking about the kids. How had even _forgotten_ the kids had gotten _engaged_? Why had his mind gone straight to panic mode instead of _thinking_. “Katniss and Peeta. _Right_.”

The worst thing was, the kids would actually love the yard for their wedding, he just knew it.

“You thought I was planning our wedding.” she accused, still trying to fight a laugh. “You thought I was looking at wedding dresses and picking up your tuxedo and everything…”

“Yeah, well…” he grumbled. “What do I know, you’re a crazy person… When you decide you want something…”

Suddenly, she couldn’t help it anymore and she burst out laughing.

A full belly laugh that made her shoulders shake and had her gasping for breath so badly she parked the car on the side of the road and rested her forehead on the wheel while she laughed it off. There were tears running down her cheeks and every time she managed to get a grip on herself, she started laughing again.

Haymitch was vexed. “It ain’t _that_ funny.” 

“Oh my god, yes _, it is_!” she panted and then burst out in peal of laughter again, holding her belly. “My stomach _hurts_. This is _hilarious_.” She finally sat up straighter and moved the rear-view mirror so she could wipe the smudged eyeliner under her eyes, still chuckling from time to time. “You thought I meant _our_ _wedding_ , you thought I was _casually_ planning our wedding behind your back…” She swallowed back the next round of giggles. “I am _impressed_ you did not start shouting right then and there…”

He chose _not_ to gratify that with an answer, arms crossed over his chest.

She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t sulk, darling. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t sulking.” he lied. “It just ain’t _that_ funny…”

If the way her mouth twitched was to be believed, it _was_ that funny, but she managed not to laugh again. “So, at which point were you going to remind me you had never proposed to me? When I told the children we were getting married in the brand new house we haven’t actually bought yet or when I dragged you cake tasting?”

“Like we would go cake tasting.” he scoffed. “Peeta would be disappointed if he didn’t get to design the cake and Sae would kill us if we didn’t let her cater. Katniss would want to sing so that takes care of the band too. You’d never go anywhere but to Portia for your dress and you already asked Cinna for a tuxedo so… Really, wouldn’t have had time to say anything cause between our friends and our kids, the organisation’s all pretty much covered.”

“You thought about this.” she commented, surprised.

“Not much to think about.” He shrugged. “That’s how it went for Annie and Finnick’s wedding, ain’t it?”

She twisted a little more in her seat to better be able to watch him. “So… You would not have said anything because our friends would have made the whole planning easier? If I decided to get married to you and not inform you until the last moment, you would just… roll with it?”

She sounded entirely too shocked.

Although he figured, after ten years of whatever it was they had been doing, it was probably good they could still shock each other.

“If it’s getting married or breaking up, we’re getting married.” he declared.

She frowned. “Who said anything about breaking up?”

“You, in my imaginary conversation when I told you I never _actually_ proposed.” he admitted with a sigh.

“I am not breaking up with you because you haven’t proposed.” she promised.

“Good.” He reached for her hand and squeezed, happy when she turned it over to link their fingers together. “So we’re still getting married or not, then?”

She blinked and then frowned. “Do you _want_ to get married?”

“I don’t _not_ want to get married if you want to get married.” he retorted. “Do you _want_ to get married?”

The question seemed to take her aback for a moment. “I never really thought about it. I mean… Well, _yes_ , I thought about it and I suppose I always thought I would at some point but that was ten years ago, that was _before_ you. I didn’t think _you_ would ever…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to get married _just_ to get married, Haymitch. It’s not… It’s not something I need _that_ much. If you don’t want it…”

“Told you.” he cut her off awkwardly. “I don’t _not_ want it.”

“That isn’t the same as _wanting_ it.” she pointed out.

He sighed again. “You know, this was much simpler when I thought you had decided we were getting married without telling me…”

That earned him a snort and another minute of her trying not to start laughing again. “I should have thought about that _evil_ plan years ago…”

He knew she was just teasing but… “Maybe you should have.”

Because if she had decided they were exclusive and informed him after the facts – hell, that was almost what had happened anyway since it had taken him years of sleeping only with her to realize they were sort of in a relationship anyway so they should just go ahead and call it _that_ instead of bearing their friends’ teasing – or if she had just moved in and waited for him to get a clue… Chances were they would have avoided his freaking out and making a mess of things every time they had taken another big step in their relationship. 

Her smile softened. “Haymitch…”

He didn’t let her finish. He squeezed her hand again and watched her face, a face he had spent too long thinking he wouldn’t see again because she was done with him. “Thing is… I don’t really care about the rings or the oaths or the religious _bullshit_ … But I know I go crazy when I spend a day without talking to you… I know I…” He licked his lips. “I know I _don’t_ wanna lose you again. _Ever_. And I know you deserve better and I know your mother’s right and you could aim so much higher but…” She tried to protest but he lifted his free hand to tell her to wait and she fell silent. “I thought you had decided we were getting married and I wanted to be angry but it never came… Was scared _shitless_ , yeah, but it was more about screwing this up again ‘cause… Yeah, like I said. Don’t wanna lose you again. So… I’m pretty much saying I’m in this for the long haul anyway, rings or no rings.”

Her eyes were shiny but it wasn’t with tears of laughter this time.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, not entirely surprised when she untangled their hands so she could cup his cheek. “You are not losing me again. We will make it work this time. And you are certainly _not_ losing me over _a wedding_ – over you not shaving when I specifically asked you to this morning _perhaps_ , but not over a wedding you imagined me throwing a tantrum about.” He snorted at the shaving comment because he hadn’t, in fact, shaved like she had wanted him to and leaned into her palm. “I want to be with you, Haymitch, that’s it. I don’t need anything else. And, honestly, I am very bad at being _without_ you so I wouldn’t fret over another break up happening so soon. The last one was taxing for me too.”

He relaxed but not completely.

_He_ didn’t need the rings or the oaths or the religious _bullshit_ and it was good of her to say she didn’t either but he knew her a little too well to entirely believe that. They were difficult people, the two of them, and they drove each other crazy on a regular basis but he was deeply aware almost every time things had gone to _shit_ between them, it had been because of him and his insecurities.

He was determined to do better, the last – not so – definitive break-up had been the wake-up call he had dearly needed, but he knew he had also made her very unhappy at times and, while she didn’t need the actual ring or oath or whatever, maybe she needed the _gesture,_ the proof that he was finally willing to commit one hundred percent.

“There would be worse things than being married to you.” he offered hesitantly.

“Famous last words.” she taunted, taking her hand off his cheek to buckle her seatbelt again.

He grabbed the wheel before she could think about starting the car again. “I mean it. Sweetheart… Sweetheart, do you want…” He stopped and made a face. How did you do something like that? He should have thought it through and asked Peeta or Finnick for pointers – or not because they would have made fun of him for the rest of his days. “Would you…”

“Haymitch.” she said quickly. “I told you. It’s _fine_. You don’t _have_ to. The last thing I want is for you to force yourself to do something you do not wish for.”

“I’m buying a house with a yard perfect for weddings, might as well get my money’s worth.” he pointed out. “Now, stop interrupting, it’s painful enough to try to find the right words.”

She pursed her lips tight and, for a second, he thought it was from irritation but then he caught the spark in her eyes. She was trying not to laugh again.

He groaned. “If I propose and you start laughing, I _swear_ …”

“Oh, are you afraid I will spoil this _romantic_ moment?” she teased. 

He smirked. “What, you expected candles and dinner?”

“I did not expect a proposal at all. A ring would have been nice, though, but I suppose I should take what I can get.” She sighed but it was fake. He knew it was fake because she was grinning again, and her blue eyes were twinkling like they always did when she was blissfully happy.

And he loved it so much when she looked like that…

He loved it – loved _her_ – so much, in the end it wasn’t even hard to pop the question. “Marry me.”

She hummed playfully and then wrinkled her nose. “Now… I will have to check my calendar… I _do_ tend to organize a lot of weddings with men who aren’t aware we’re getting married, you know, so…”

He crushed the rest of that sentence under his lips and she laughed against his mouth.

“What did I say about laughing when I propose?” he grumbled but didn’t give her time to answer before kissing her again. Hard. And messy.

Her laughter turned into a content sigh. She pressed her forehead against his when the kiss slowed down and turned into a series of long pecks.

“Yes.” she whispered.

He decided on the spot that _yes_ was his new favorite word…

Of course, then she insisted on calling Portia right away and he could have lived without having to hear her best friend laugh for fifteen minutes straight at what had prompted the proposal…

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Let me know!


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